


...and on to tomorrow

by wraith816



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-18
Updated: 2009-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraith816/pseuds/wraith816
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of season five, Supernatural's drawing to a close, and Jared is absolutely not freaking out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...and on to tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spnflashfic's "it's the end of the world" challenge. Thanks to egotists for looking this over.

Of the two of them, Jared's always been the more laid-back, and it's a title he claims happily. It's not that Jensen is high-strung or anything, but he's the worrier, the one who picks things apart and plans ahead and annoys Jared to death with his pacing when he's nervous. Jared's the one who shakes his head with a smile and a _calm the heck down, man_.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when, in the middle of filming Sam's breakdown for the end of episode twenty, he suddenly thinks, _holy shit, this is really almost over_.

The thought comes seemingly out of nowhere, and he misses his line completely as it hits him just how close they are to the end of this all, ruining what had probably been his best take in the process. _This is almost done_. He knows with a striking clarity that it's an idea he needs to think long and hard about, but Jensen's ribbing him about screwing the scene and Kripke, who's in Vancouver for these last few weeks, starts grumbling about shooting schedules. Jared shoves whatever that was down until he's ready to be Sam Winchester again.

He doesn't think about it again until late that night, when he's lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, hopelessly waiting for sleep to come. Jared turns the notion over in his head; the show is ending, for real and for good. Two episodes left to finish, some interviews to hype the finale, and then done. He almost can't believe it, that this period in his life and career is coming so quickly to a close.

It's not that he wants Supernatural to go on forever; far from it, in fact. The endless hours of filming, the distance, the near-relentless anguish...they've taken their toll. It has been good work, challenging like Jared doubts he'll find again. But as heart-rending as it is to say good-bye, this is a timely end. No reason he should panic. Nothing to explain why he's been shaken all day.

 _But it's not the only thing I'm leaving behind_ , Jared thinks.

And there, he realizes, is the problem. Because they could finish filming today and he could walk away with nothing more than a little sense of melancholy, but the people, that's what he'll miss, what he'll regret not having everyday. The crew, the directors, the other actors, and… _Jensen_. God, he'll _miss_ Jensen, and that idea stops him cold.

Jared knows that his friendship with Jensen has never really been a typical one. So maybe some of Sam and Dean's codependency issues have rubbed off on him. Unfortunate, and awkward, but probably unavoidable considering just how much time they've spent together over the past five years. He can't remember what it was like before he could reach an arm out, or pick up a phone, and find Jensen there and ready to listen to all his inane chatter or deeply buried angst. He can't imagine going their separate ways without the promise of a mandatory reunion.

He tries to wrap his head around it, tries to fall asleep, but both prove difficult. He finally drifts off sometime after 3:00 am, glad that his call time's relatively late.

 

The next week, Jared's tense and jumpy on set, enough that people start commenting on his mood. He smiles and tells them they're crazy and that there's nothing up, though he doubts anyone believes him. He starts getting clingy, throwing an arm over Jensen's shoulder, or resting a hand on his bicep, not realizing what he's doing until they're already touching. It's the kind of behavior he usually only reserves for when there's a camera to show off for, and Jensen gives him odd looks every time.

When they've got an hour break on Tuesday, Jared calls his sister from his trailer and stupidly spills all his fears. She laughs at him.

"You do realize that Jensen can barely take a deep breath without letting you know about it, right?" she asks.

"We're not that bad."

"Trust me; you really are. I bet you guys don't last more than a week apart."

"Do you know how sad you're making us sound?"

"I'm not saying anything that isn't true," she argues. "You two are like, the definition of 'joined at the hip.' So just get it through your head that he actually likes spending time with you and _stop flipping out already_."

When his mother calls a few days later, she says nearly the same thing.

"Honey, you and Jensen are inseparable. It's a rare thing to have a friendship like yours, and I'm sure it isn't going to change anytime soon."

Jared doesn't really believe either of them, tries to come up with someone else he could talk to about his sudden issues, but he felt dumb enough discussing it with family, so there's no way he's trusting most of his friends to be helpful. If it were anything else, he'd already have told Jensen, but...

Jared's on his own.

 

The last scene they film is the last one of the series. They only need two takes to nail it, and when they cut, Jared's left just looking at Jensen with nothing less than awe. They're standing in a Vancouver street at midday, covered in fake blood, one of the cars is parked not far away, and the entire crew around them is absolutely silent. The moment doesn't last long, broken when someone starts applauding, and then everyone's clapping, and Kripke's walking over, practically sobbing as he pulls them both into a firm hug.

Everyone's still cheering, bodies flooding the road as they all clamor to shake hands or pat them on the back. And somewhere in the midst of it all, he gets his arms around Jensen, holding on tightly like that'll keep them close, and Jensen, too quiet for anyone else to hear, says, "Good job, man." _This_ , it's what Jared can't bear to lose, why he can't resign to voluntarily walking away.

When Jensen finally pulls back, his eyes look a little wet to match how Jared's feel, and then it's back to the whirlwind of accepting congratulations.

He and Jensen walk into the wrap party side by side that night, and someone calls out, "To the Winchesters!" and everyone else follows, all raising their drinks in salute, and Jared maybe is still a little close to crying. He settles instead for taking the first shot glass someone hands him and downing it. People keep giving them drinks, and they both keep taking them, and eventually someone starts in on the half-drunken speeches. Eric's is a long-winded ramble punctuated by bursts of tears, Sera's is short and packed with innuendo, and then someone pushes Jensen up to the front of the room, the crowd egging him on.

Jensen smiles. "I'm just glad I don't have to put up with all of you anymore," he shouts and everyone else laughs along with him.

When they call Jared up next, all the things he could've considered saying have left him. He declines the invitation, and instead, he hollers, "What Jensen said!" though it's the last thing he means.

 

After a week of sleeping in and lazing around, Jensen starts packing.

Jensen is moving back to LA fulltime, and so is Jared, probably, though he plans on keeping the house to rent out. He has to pack too, but he's got three times the stuff Jensen has, twice the time to clear out, and no firm living situation yet; he's in no hurry. So he takes a spot on the couch instead, ready to observe the spectacle.

"Are you planning on helping or are you just gonna sit on your ass and watch me work?" Jensen asks, shooting him a glare.

"I'm supervising."

"You're lazy, more like it."

"Hey, I don't wanna get in the way of your 'system,'" Jared says, gesturing to the box that Jensen haphazardly dumps his DVD collection in.

As detail-oriented as he may normally be, Jensen's packing method is actually the same as his organizational scheme: throw things in boxes and hope nothing gets lost or broken. This isn't the first time Jared's been audience to the process, and it's entertaining enough that Jared probably should consider selling tickets. Jensen curses and rants, snapping at anyone who dare interrupt him. He throws things into the garbage only to decide ten minutes later that he didn't really want to get rid of them.

Jared thinks about how easy it would be to just swipe a box, hide it somewhere Jensen would never think to look, if he even noticed it was missing before he got all the way back to California. It could be something important, something Jensen would want back right away. Something he'd have to call Jared to get it returned. The more he thinks about it, the more appealing the idea begins to seem.

Or not, because really, he doesn't want to be that much of an ass. Or that needy. Jared shakes his head at his own ridiculousness.

"So," Jensen suddenly begins, "you wanna tell me why you've been so twitchy lately?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're freaking out about something."

"No, I'm not."

"You totally are."

"I don't get freaked out."

Jensen starts ticking off points on his fingers. "The time you thought Sadie broke her leg. The time I got that concussion on set. Every time you thought we might get cancelled..."

"Those weren't freak outs," Jared argues. Jensen raises an eyebrow. "They weren't! They were…moments of concern. Very manly concern."

"All right, well you've been _concerned_ for weeks now, so I gotta assume it has something to do with the show ending. Am I right?"

"No!" Jensen shoots him a stern look. "Maybe," Jared finally mutters.

"So, out with it. What's got you acting even weirder than usual?"

Jared sighs. "You don't get to laugh at me for this."

"I won't."

"Or call me a girl."

"No making fun of you. Got it."

"I mean it. I know it's hard for you, but don't be an asshole."

"Just spit it out already."

"It's you," Jared reluctantly mumbles.

"Come again?"

"It's you, okay? If you haven't noticed, you're pretty much the best friend I've ever had. Five years and the longest I've gone without talking to you is less than a week. And now you're gonna go off and do your own thing and you don't have to put up with my stupid ass anymore. You can do whatever and forget about me completely. So yeah, maybe I'm freaking out just a little bit."

Jensen just stares at him for a minute, eyes a little wide, before he bursts out laughing, the doubles-you-over, bust-a-gut kind of laughter that he so rarely displays. "That's it? Really? You're a moron, you know." Jensen leaves the box he was working on filling and sits on the couch next to Jared. His expression goes more serious, warmer than Jared's ever seen. He says, "Look...yeah, we won't see each other twenty-four seven anymore, but that doesn't mean we're gonna be strangers or something. Anybody else, yeah, best case scenario, I'd call them up a couple of times a year at the most. But that…it's not us and never will be. I mean it, Jared."

"I know. I mean, I should know; I'm just..."

"A massive idiot?" Jensen offers.

"I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You're a dick and I don't know why I deal with you."

"Because you'd be a wreck without me. You just said so." Jensen smacks him on the arm. "Now are we done with the sappy stuff? Because you are so helping me pack after putting me through all that."

Jared rolls his eyes. "You just want me to do all the heavy lifting."

"Damn right I do."

 

Jensen leaves on a Friday, driving out into a persistent drizzle. Jared resists the urge to watch him go.

 

On Wednesday, Jared's cell rings, Jensen's name flashing on the caller ID, and there's a smile spreading over his face before he's even got the phone to his ear.

"Hey. When's the next time you're going to be in LA?" Jensen asks, no preamble.

"Uh, I don't know," Jared answers. "Why?"

"My agent actually sent me a script that actually doesn't suck."

"It's a good part?"

"Yeah, it's…fuck, Jared, I'd kill to get this thing. You've really gotta read this; it could…yeah, it's good." His excitement is plain in his voice.

"That sounds awesome, man. You'll have to show me when I come down."

"Yeah…" He sounds uncertain then, trailing off before he admits, "Only problem is I can't really get a handle on it; the thing's kicking my ass. I could use your advice, man."

"The great Jensen Ackles is asking for my help?" Jared teases, not caring about the eagerness in his tone.

"Just tell me if you can come, asshole."

"I can check out flights for the weekend, if that works for you," he says, already crossing the room to grab his laptop.

"Yeah, that'd be good. And thanks, y'know."

"It's no problem. But I want it on the record that you're the one who broke down and called first." Jared laughs.

"Only because I knew you'd cry if I didn't."

"Uh-huh. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you can't deal with even a week away from my awesome presence."

"I really should stop letting you labor under the delusion that you're not the pathetic one in this friendship." Jensen snorts. "I gotta run, but text me when you've got your flight sorted out, okay? I can pick you up at the airport."

"Will do. See you soon."

Jared hangs up, and for the first time in weeks, he's sure they'll be okay.


End file.
